


sparks fly

by shudder



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, type one diabetic mungojerrie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24993712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shudder/pseuds/shudder
Summary: five times quaxo's trick failed, and one time it didn't
Relationships: Mr. Mistoffelees/Mungojerrie (Cats)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	sparks fly

* * *

Quaxo’s eyes sparkled as he laughed, his bright teeth taking up half his face. His laughter soon overtook Mungojerrie’s own body, filling it with the joy of a stupid joke. It hadn’t even been that funny, but the warmth of the summer sun and the buzz of the party had gotten to them. Once he had caught his breath again, he reached over to fix the bright blue lei around his neck, his fingers gently brushing Quaxo’s collarbone. 

“Show me a trick. I know ya one got on ya.” He gently nudged him with his shoulder. “Come on, it’s a perfect day for The Magical Mista’ Mistoffelees to make an appearance, ‘uh?” 

Quaxo sheepishly looked around for watchers. Mungo knew he’d been working on a new trick, and was excited to be the first to see it. “Okay, but this one hasn’t been tested yet.”

Mungo just vigorously nodded, the same smile never leaving his face. He admired the way Quaxo’s floppy black hair bounced as he reached into his jacket. That jacket he never took off, even when everyone else, Mungo included, was in shorts and shirtless. Or as shirtless as a group of gay and transgender youth can be. He pulled out his hand with a flourish. “And! Presto!”

Nothing happened. His hand was empty, fingers splayed like something should have appeared. He quickly put his arm down, and clasped his thin fingers together in front of himself. “That, uh, should have been fire.” He glanced down sheepishly, and Mungo lifted his chin with a single finger.

“No one saw. Relax, dork.” The sentence was punctuated with a boop on the nose and then a swig of diet soda.

* * *

Stars overhead, and a glass of champagne in one hand, Mungojerrie leaned back and sighed. The roof of his dorm was his favorite place, and he hadn’t ever brought Quaxo up here before. Tonight, however, was different somehow. They’d just finished a lacrosse tournament and lost, but it hadn’t dampened their spirits at all. Maybe they knew their team sucked, but maybe it was the company and the night that calmed them. As he sat up against the fence surrounding the roof, he slowly placed his off hand between the two of them. An invitation to be held, but not exactly a request.

If Quaxo noticed, he said nothing, just sipped his bubbly. “Do you wanna see the fire?” He asked after a moment. It had been a few weeks since the last try Mungo had seen, enough time for the trick to have been fixed, and so he nodded. He couldn’t help but smile, either. His face always brightened up when his friends offered to share their talents, especially this friend. Especially now, alone, when Quaxo wasn’t performing for anyone. Just proud of himself, unabashedly happy at his accomplishments. 

He reached into his jacket, and pulled out his hand with a flourish. He didn’t even say his signature “presto!” but, the trick didn’t work. This time an odorous liquid flew from his sleeve, rather than nothing. 

“Shit, lighter fluid.” Mungojerrie burst out laughing, despite himself. This only received a glare from Quaxo, so he quickly stifled himself.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. It was good. You’ll ‘ave flames in no time.” He reached his hand out and squeezed Quaxo’s shoulder. 

* * *

“Presto!” Quaxo had been really adamant that this time, the trick would work. That’s why he had asked Mungo to hang out tonight, to make sure he was the first one to see “The Fire,” as the trick was now named. However, once again, no fire came out. There also wasn’t any lighter fluid like last time, however, and Mungojerrie didn’t know if that was supposed to be better or worse. However, he was enjoying all these private magic shows, regardless of the magic not working, so he said nothing. Just smiled and gently placed a hand on Quaxo’s shoulder.

The two shared a short look, neither wanting to verbally acknowledge that there was something deeper growing between them. Small looks and touches had been becoming more common between them, and Mungo knew it meant more than the dark haired man would let on because of Quaxo’s touch aversion. They sat in that moment, just taking in the night. The cool air blew softly on Mungojerrie’s face, tinged a slight red from the intimacy of the moment. It was nice. He could get used to this, but he wouldn’t let himself until he knew what it was.

Eventually, Quaxo spoke. “More seltzer?” He held up the last unopened can of Whiteclaw they had, and Mungo, usually never one to say no, shook his head. 

“Actually, you know, I need to get some work done. Give me a shout next time you try the fire, yeah?” He scrunched one side of his face up and stuck out his tongue before running off.

* * *

The snow was knee deep, but they still had to attend classes, and so the boys pulled on their dusty parkas (Quaxo still wearing his signature jacket under it), and trudged off into the world. Mungojerrie didn’t find this weather all that different from what he was used to. Quaxo, on the other hand, spent half the walk across campus complaining about how cold it was.

“Some of us are from southern California and don’t need to be freezing our asses off just to go to a sociology lecture.” He grumbled into his scarf, and Mungo had half a mind to pull that scarf right off him. He didn’t, though, just quietly let Quaxo hate his life. Mungo liked seeing him all bundled up, it felt cozy. The winter was always a joy, it reminded him of the days he had spent as a child just skiing down the hills in his family’s Canadian vacation home. He just wished they could be curled up in front of the fire with some hot chocolate instead of walking to a class neither of them liked. He knew that his friend wasn’t as excited about the weather as him, however, and decided to try and take his mind off it.

“I haven’t heard you talk about The Fire in a bit, you give up on that?” He asked, a slight tease to his voice. The magician would never admit to giving up on a trick, but had been known to rework or completely reimagine them, to the point of being unrecognizable. He’d always insist it was the same, though; Quaxo never gives up.

They were approaching the lecture hall quickly, and Quaxo responded as he opened the door. “I brought it with me, if you wanna take a look?” The two of them pulled inside and to the left of the doorway. 

For his part, Quaxo hadn’t made a big deal of the trick this time; that didn’t make it any less disappointing when it didn’t do anything. Mungojerrie didn’t say anything, simply placed a hand on Quaxo’s shoulder and squeezed. The two of them shared a smile before hurrying off to class.

* * *

“Is it gonna work this time?” Mungo teased, not looking away from the spot on the ceiling he had been intently staring at. “This is what, the seventieth time you’ve tried to do this same one?” 

“Yes. Well, it should. I hope.” Mungojerrie looked over as Quaxo spread out his arms, his petite wingspan almost filling the even smaller dorm room, and Jerrie interrupted his next sentence.

“No patter, ‘kay? Save it for the masses, you’ve already won me over.” A heat spread across his freckled cheeks, and he instantly started overthinking that sentence, worrying he had let too much slip. Luckily, he didn’t have much time to agonize over potentially being too forward, as Quaxo just nodded and reached both arms in toward his armpits. 

He pulled his arms quickly out, with a “Presto!” Mungojerrie heard the unmistakable sound of a lighter flicking, and smelled the lighter fluid in the air, but no actual fire came forth. Quaxo didn’t seem too upset, though, and simply grabbed a towel from his laundry bag to clean the bits of his hands that had been stained with the fluid. 

“That’s close. That’s good. We’re getting there.” He smiled at Mungo, and there was so much joy in his eyes that the redhead had to close his before replying.

“We’re getting there.”

* * *

“Can I show you a trick?” Quaxo motioned at the table of his peers, and winked at Mungo. This made him blush, the fact that even putting on a whole show, Quaxo was thinking of him. After getting a few enthusiastic nods, the magician continued with his patter. “They say that soon after humans discovered fire, we started truly developing. But I, The Magical Mister Mistoffelees, want to take that one step farther. I want to put fire in the hands of everyone, big and small, at a moment's notice. Behold; The Fire.” He waved his arms, once again reached around himself, and pulled his arms back, shouting “presto!” as he did. 

A long line of pyrotechnics burst forth from each sleeve, enough so that Mungojerrie was worried they’d get kicked out of the food court, but just as quickly as the yellow flames had appeared, they receded. The table burst into cheers, and, sitting next to a beautiful and talented young man, Mungo couldn’t hold it in any longer. He kissed Quaxo, and Quaxo kissed back, hungrily. Their mouths seemed to perfectly fit together, and Mungojerrie could taste the chapstick that the other used. It was truly remarkable, being there with him, and they kissed and kissed until Munkustrap pulled them apart.

Both of them smiled sheepishly at their friends, and glanced at each other. They were going to have a fun time when they got back to the dorm.

* * *


End file.
